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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27328834">These Are a Few of My Least Hated Things</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/stfustucky'>stfustucky (iwillpaintasongforlou)</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kaer Morsels [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aidensexual Lambert, Alternate Universe - Bakery, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Banter, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, First Time Blow Jobs, Flirting, Hijinks &amp; Shenanigans, Kink Negotiation, Lambert's gay awakening, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Semi-Public Sex, Tenderness, awkward sex talks, baker Lambert, delivery guy Aiden, listen Lambert is a subby boy and we all know it, part 2 of a series but you don't really need to backread if you don't wanna</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 22:54:21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>13,362</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27328834</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/iwillpaintasongforlou/pseuds/stfustucky</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lambert is a very grumpy cookie decorator at Kaer Morsels who makes his money piping obscene things onto cookies with icing. Aiden is the delivery guy who smiles at Lambert and talks to him and makes his stomach feel all weird like he's going to barf but in a good way. Which is weird because he's pretty sure that he isn't into guys. You can think someone is hot and want to get them shirtless and make out with them and spend the rest of your life with them in a friend way, right? Right, that seems like a thing. Fuck.</p><p>(Lambert has a gay awakening at the hands of soft dom Aiden. Apparently he has a thing for gorgeous men bossing him around, so sue him.)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Aiden/Lambert (The Witcher)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Kaer Morsels [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1974415</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>43</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>436</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>These Are a Few of My Least Hated Things</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>The delicious combination of soft d/s, first time nerves, queer awakenings, and cookies, which absolutely zero people but myself asked for. Enjoy!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>If there's two things Lambert loves, it's decorating cookies and being left the fuck alone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Seriously, if this stupid job didn't happen to mostly allow for both of those things, there's no way he'd work in this hellhole. It was bad enough when it was just him and Geralt and Eskel here, because he was the little brother and that meant he got fucked with all the time. Not to mention the fact that working with your family --and </span>
  <em>
    <span>for</span>
  </em>
  <span> your family, in Eskel's case-- is just generally a goddamn shitshow. Then Jaskier started hanging around all the time, mooning over Eskel like he had a dick made of gold or something, and now Lambert has to put up with </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> bullshit, too. Honestly, it's garbage.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Eskel lets him sit in the back most of the time and listen to music and work on decorating baked goods instead of dealing with customers, so that's alright. He's pretty fuckin' good at it, too. Apparently he has a steady hand, or whatever. Not like he ever took a class on it or anything, he just saw a bag of icing sitting around in the kitchen of Kaer Morsels one day and decided to use it to draw a photorealistic dick on a nearby wedding cake because he was bored. Eskel punched him in the mouth for ruining the order, then took another look at how good the detail work was and offered him a job, too. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The first time Lambert snuck a tray of cookies into the display case that said "go suck a dick" on them in elegant script, it was mostly so that he could get fired. Vesemir was always getting on him about being a quitter, but it didn't count as quitting if Eskel fired him, right? Which he was totally going to. Eskel was going to get complaints from his precious customers about the obscene nature of his goods and Lambert would be walking out the back door with his final paycheck in hand in no time. It was a foolproof plan.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except that people fucking loved them and the whole tray sold out in under an hour, and Eskel had told him to make three more. That was... not according to plan. But whatever, if people want him to write rude shit in pretty pastel colors so they can get a giggle out of their baked goods before they eat them, it doesn't make a fucking difference to Lambert. He gets to come in late and go hide in the back and make his special treats --called Lambert's Laments-- and almost no one bothers him the whole time he's at work.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except Aiden, of course but that.... isn't so bad, either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden has been here for longer than Lambert, technically. Not that he works </span>
  <em>
    <span>in</span>
  </em>
  <span> the bakery, but he's their main supplier, so he's here every other day. He brings them all the fresh shit that Eskel insists on using, straight from the market or wherever you buy berries and eggs and all that. Most of the time he comes in late in the day, because most places want their deliveries early but he gives them a discount for letting him put Kaer Morsels on his afternoon route.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which means that Lambert is usually back in the kitchen working on his masterpieces when Aiden comes breezing through like he owns the place and throws Lambert all off kilter, like right now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hello, kitchen gremlin," a smooth voice says as Lambert's earbud is tugged from one ear. He doesn't even look up to see who it is; no one else is brave enough to fuck with his music. Only Aiden is likely to survive such an error. "Did you miss me?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hard to miss you when you never seem to fucking leave," Lambert says with a scowl. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It must not be a very convincing one, because Aiden just snorts a laugh. "Of course I leave, that's all part of my plan. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. You may not have noticed yet, but you're falling more and more in love with me with every 48-hour stretch that you don't get to see my lovely face."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's always like this, every day. Aiden flirts like he doesn't even notice that he isn't getting anywhere, and Lambert just keeps on ignoring him. He tries to ignore him, anyways; no sense in encouraging him when Lambert isn't even into guys like that. He hasn't come right out and said that much to Aiden, yet, but that's only because he's so nice and doesn't want to fuck up the dude's day. If he just keeps not fucking him for long enough, then eventually Aiden will get the point that Lambert is straight, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except maybe Aiden is dumb, because he doesn't stop trying. No matter how hard Lambert ignores his flirting, it doesn't seem to make Aiden smile at him any less, or make him stop complimenting Lambert, or stop winking at him with those stupid long eyelashes, so whatever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert's stomach feels weird when he does that. He should do that less. Or more. Whatever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I don't think it's love I feel. More like a bad case of indigestion. It definitely has to do with how often I see you, though," grumbles Lambert. He sneaks a peek up from his work to look at Aiden, confident from the sound of boxes getting moved around that he won't get caught looking. Sure enough, all he sees Aiden's ass as he's leaned over rearranging bags of flour on one of the lower shelves beneath the counter. One of these days Lambert is going to ask him what the fucking deal is with the super tight uniform shorts. That's got to be uncomfortable for someone with such a physical job.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that Lambert is looking. He doesn't have any reason to look.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden laughs at his insult and keeps stocking their shelves with supplies, and when he's done, he comes strolling over to Lambert's side with a curious expression. "Whaddaya workin' on, there?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Rather than answer, Lambert just offers him the cookie he just finished frosting.  "Trying to see how far I can push this 'artistic liberty' before Eskel gets fed up with me." It's a cute little cartoon penis with pink frosting, adorned by black lettering declaring 'SUCK ON IT' in an angry sort of font. Not his best work, but it'll still sell like crazy. Lambert's cookies always do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Why, Lamby, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you were propositioning me," Aiden drawls, leaning in to take the cookie from Lambert's hand not with his fingers, but with his mouth. He doesn't even take it from Lambert, just lets him sit there like an idiot holding it while Aiden gets his lips around it. Then, to make matter's worse, instead of biting into it like a normal fucking person, he drags the tip out of his mouth so that his lips smear the still-setting icing, making a little smudge of pink appear on his top lip. It's only there for an instant before he licks it away, looking Lambert in the eyes the whole time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert's stomach feels all upside down all of a sudden. Probably too much coffee or something. "You wish," he says, just a beat too late.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I most certainly do," Aiden says easily, no hesitation whatsoever. "Today, unfortunately, I have to go. What do you think, is today the day I get a kiss goodbye?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe next time," snorts Lambert. It's an easy letdown, that's all, not a promise or anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Maybe next time," Aiden echoes. "Have a good day, Lamby."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden leaves, then, and Lambert throws the ruined cookie away and puts his headphones back in so that everything gets quiet again  behind the wall of music separating him from the rest of the world. That's how he likes it, how he </span>
  <em>
    <span>needs</span>
  </em>
  <span> it. Now that Aiden has come and gone, Lambert can finish out the rest of his shift in peace and not have to worry about anyone else bothering him with dumb questions and half-eaten cookies.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert misses him already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is... kind of a fuckin problem, because it doesn't make any sense. Nothing makes much sense when it comes to Aiden. Maybe he needs some sort of Gay-to-Straight translator so that he can figure out what the fuck Aiden's deal is and why he makes Lambert's head feel like he has a bunch of animated question marks coming out of his ears.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's going to have to talk to his brothers, Lambert realizes with a sigh, grabbing a paper towel and digging a sharpie out of one of his apron pockets so he can doodle a design for a question mark shaped cookie with script reading </span>
  <em>
    <span>what the fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> curving around the edge. If anyone will be able to help, it'll be them. The fact that they'll also give Lambert shit for years if they figure out what's going on is just an unfortunate side effect. He'll just have to be really subtle, that's all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>..................... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"How do you know if someone is gay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt and Eskel both turn almost in perfect sync to look at Lambert like he's grown a second head. Geralt has a mouthful of pizza that's hanging a little bit open. Eskel suddenly looks like he needs a drink. "By asking them, usually," the oldest brother asks, running a hand through his dark hair tiredly. "You can't tell just by looking at someone, if that's what you're implying."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I know that, the fuck do you think I am?" Lambert scoffs. Fuck, the two of them are as good a piece of evidence for that as anyone. Geralt is so gay he would probably wither and die at the sight of a tit, and Eskel's bisexual ass is obsessed with Jaskier, and neither of them look like they would be anything but straight if you bought into stereotypes. They're strong and masculine and not what anyone would think of when picturing a gay man, for sure. No, he knows that's all bullshit. "But like, you have to </span>
  <em>
    <span>know</span>
  </em>
  <span>, right? Like your gaydar or whatever."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Gaydar isn't a real thing," Geralt snorts, rolling his eyes. "It's not that easy."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, it's not </span>
  <em>
    <span>easy,</span>
  </em>
  <span> but it is kind of a thing," contemplates Eskel, leaning back in his seat as he thinks. They're all sitting around on Vesemir's couches eating pizza and watching TV, waiting for the old man himself to get back from the butcher shop with the steaks so they can have a proper second dinner. Eskel's fingers drum against the armrest softly. "I mean, you can kind of tell. Not for sure, but you can usually tell when you start flirting with someone whether they're into it or not."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Right, so you have to be able to tell </span>
  <em>
    <span>somehow,"</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lambert says quickly, latching onto the thread. "Cause you don't just walk up to people and be like, 'Hey I'm Geralt and I like to suck dick, are you into that, too?'" He drops his voice into a low, gravelly register to impersonate their middle brother, and it must be good because it earns him a scowl.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's hard to put into words, I don't know," Eskel shrugs after another moment of thought. "It's not like if someone scratches the left side of their nose at a 30 degree angle you know for sure that they're attracted to a particular gender. It's more just like a general sense of whether they're into you or not when you show them you're interested in them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That's not helpful at all, which makes sense since it's advice coming from these idiots. Lambert should have known better than to try to get blood from such a dumbassed stone. He needs something concrete, something to explain why Aiden keeps on flirting with him even though Lambert is totally not even a little bit gay, so how could he possibly be giving off vibes like he wants Aiden, too?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well," says Lambert slowly, stuffing his mouth with another half a slice of pizza. He completes the thought around a mouthful of cheese and bread and molten hot sauce. "Well, how did you know that </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> were gay? Or bi, or whatever."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Now they're </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> looking at him like he's insane, so Lambert fixes his eyes on the screen so that he won't have to look at them. It's some sort of infomercial about a blender and it isn't doing a great job of keeping his attention; he can still feel their eyes burning holes in the side of his face. Eskel clears his throat. "Why are you asking all these questions, Bert?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No fuckin' reason," Lambert hurries to say with a forceful shrug. "Just curious, I guess. So?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's... just about how you feel about people, I guess," Geralt finally mumbles. "If you find yourself having feelings for people with the same gender, then you're attracted to that gender. I don't know, that's a weird question."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert ignores Geralt's discomfort and presses on. Uncomfortable feelings, now they're getting to some relevant information. "What kind of feelings?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wanting to be around them, be close to them, spend time with them," Eskel says with enough of a dreamy look on his face that Lambert knows he's thinking about Jaskier, and it makes him want to barf. "Caring about them, and seeing them still being a part of your life even years in the future."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And now we're back to being unhelpful. "You can have all those feelings about friends, dickwad. That's just friend feelings."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"All of that, plus thinking they're attractive and wanting to sleep with them," Geralt chimes in. He passes an unwanted pizza crust to Eskel, who eats it with no hesitation because he has issues and likes that part the best. "Or at least for most people. Some people experience romantic attraction for other people, but not sexual attraction."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Well that's not it. Lambert </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> appreciates a finely crafted lady. Hell, he notices when other men are attractive, too. There are lots of beautiful people in the world and Lambert doesn't think it's weird to acknowledge a good-lookin' face when he sees one. "Could still be just a friendship thing, though. Like you could just have a really good friend that you think is attractive and want to spend lots of time with them for the rest of your life. But how do you know if you want to have sex with them?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel and Geralt trade another loaded glance, and then Geralt reaches over and clasps his shoulder so he can lean in towards Lambert and catch his attention. "Alright, baby brother. It's time someone told you the truth about the world. See, sometimes you see someone naked and you start to feel funny down in your--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Geralt's very sarcastic impromptu birds and bees talk gets interrupted by a throw pillow smacking him square in the face, and the ensuing destruction of Vesemir's living room pushes all thoughts of the whole bizarre conversation out of everyone's mind. Or at least it seems that way for Eskel and Geralt, since they don't bring it up again once Vesemir gets home from the store with Ciri in tow and they all start cooking their various dishes. Lambert doesn't bring it up again either, but that's only because he already has enough to think about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's time to get to the bottom of this, once and for all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>..................... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden arrives the next day with his delivery, as always, and this time is different only in how weirdly nervous Lambert is. He shouldn't be. What the fuck does he have to be nervous about? This is just like any other day at work. He certainly doesn't have to be nervous about Aiden. He's going to finally prove to himself --and Aiden-- once at for all that all of this flirting is stupid and he definitely, absolutely, one hundred percent isn't into guys.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"What's this, a Bert without a song?" Aiden says with a fake gasp of surprise when he rolls the cart in. "Oh my god, I don't know what to do about this. Do we throw a party? Call the National Guard? Or maybe Dateline?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You shut up about it," Lambert grumbles, but his mouth wants to smile a little at the corner. "Headphones are dead." </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's a lie. He doesn't know why he says it, other than the fact </span>
  <em>
    <span>I knew you were coming and I like talking to you </span>
  </em>
  <span>sounds dumb. He doesn't really care what Aiden thinks about him, just like he doesn't really care if Aiden talks to him or not. It's just nice, that's all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden laughs and starts unloading the goods, just like he always does, but Lambert doesn't hide behind the counter and pretend not to notice this time. Instead he gets off his stool and walks around to one of the sinks, the deep kind that can hold lots of dishes that his asshole brothers leave for him to wash at the end of the night. Aiden glances up from his work curiously when he hears the water start to run, but he doesn't comment. "That's why airpods are stupid," he says instead, grin wicked. "Who ever heard of having to charge your headphones? You're supposed to be able to just plug them in and-- what the fuck?!"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He doesn't finish his thoughts about headphones, probably because Lambert just doused him with icy cold water from the sink's sprayer. "Oops," he says, all false innocence. "My hand slipped. I was just trying to wash the dishes."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That's another lie, and this time he knows exactly why he does it. Admitting that he likes talking to Aiden is one thing. Admitting that he wanted to ruin Aiden's shirt for the purposes of his weird personal science experiment? Yeah, that would be awkward as fuck. Aiden doesn't need to know about that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You need to work on your aim, buddy," Aiden sighs, looking down at the shirt that's now soaked through. "Fuck. Well, it'll dry eventually."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I have a shirt you could wear," Lambert blurts out. "You know, since it's my fault and all. I have one. I keep it for uh, emergencies."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows that he sounds fucking shady, but there's a reason Lambert avoids people most of the time, okay? He's not good at this shit, not even lying. Aiden raises his eyebrows in surprise. "Oh. You sure?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Uhm. Yeah, I'm sure. I'll go grab it and you take your shirt off or whatever."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>In the back office, where his 'emergency shirt' has been strategically stored, Lambert takes a second to shake himself back to reality. This is stupid. This whole thing is stupid. He's going to walk back out there, give Aiden the new shirt, and this whole ridiculous thing will be put to rest. It doesn't matter because he's not going to feel anything when he walks out there and sees--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden standing there, shirtless, in nothing but his comically tight little shorts and work boots. His chest is dusted with curly dark hair that continues down across his stomach, which is toned. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Really</span>
  </em>
  <span> toned, actually. Does he work out, or is that just from hauling boxes and shit? He kind of wants to reach out and touch the little lines of his abs just to see what they feel like, because </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lambert</span>
  </em>
  <span> sure as shit doesn't have a nice enough body to have lines like those. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Nice in a purely objective sense. He's just making Lambert reconsider his lifestyle of pizza and napping, that's all.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His skin is wet from where the water soaked through the fabric of his shirt, and it kind of makes him look like he's sweating a little. Not in a gross way, just like he just got finished lifting something heavy or having a good fuck. </span>
  <em>
    <span>That</span>
  </em>
  <span> thought draws Lambert's eyes to the place where his happy trail disappears into the waistband of his shorts, and those little creases that make a vee from his hips and point downward and inward, and then he has to drag his eyes all the way back up Aiden's body because he's not going to stand here and stare at another guy's dick, okay? That would be weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except that speaking of dicks, Lambert's is kind of hard, and this whole stupid plan just got a little more complicated.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden is smiling when Lambert meets his eyes again. No, fuck that, the bastard is </span>
  <em>
    <span>smirking,</span>
  </em>
  <span> like he knows exactly what thoughts are running through Lambert's head. "You alright there, little lamb?" he asks playfully. "You look like you've seen a--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up," Lambert interrupts him. "And stay still."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>To his credit, Aiden does freeze in place immediately. "Okay," he says, wary now. "Uh, why?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert steps forward a few paces, until he's right in front of Aiden, too close to be casual. Close enough that he can smell him, like fresh fruit and hard labor. "I wanna try something for a second."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Like what, Bert?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The way that Aiden's eyes drift down to Lambert's lips says that he probably already knows the answer to his own question, so Lambert doesn't bother responding. He just takes a deep breath and fucking goes for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His mouth meets Aiden's clumsily, a brief flare of pain rising up as his lip gets pinched between teeth, and Lambert doesn't hate that. The rest of the sensations that follow are pretty great, too. The rasp of a beard on his skin is new, and the unexpectedness of it makes him shiver a little. Aiden tastes like the cinnamon gum he's always chewing, and his lips are softer than Lambert was expecting. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck, </span>
  </em>
  <span>Lambert thinks as he sucks on Aiden's full lower lip, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I should use chapstick more.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Or learn to stop biting his lip. Aiden probably won't want to kiss him anymore if his lips aren't nice and </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> would be disappointing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except that Aiden doesn't seem like he particularly wants to be kissing Lambert now, either. He isn't pushing him away, but he isn't really kissing back either. He's just sort of letting it happen, and when Lambert pulls back to look at him, Aiden's face is just surprise. "Fuck. That was a bad idea," he sighs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I think it was a great idea," Aiden fires back, licking his lips in a way that makes Lambert's stomach flutter. "But if you want to label it as a bad idea, you should know I'm a big fan of those. You should have more of them."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It can't have been </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> great. You didn't kiss me back," Lambert grumbles.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The embarrassment of his butchered attempt at making a move is starting to rise up in Lambert, but it's quickly quelled by Aiden's easy grin. "You told me to stay still, of course I wasn't gonna move. I've seen you try to stick Geralt's head in an oven before when you didn't get your way. I'm not trying to die today, I'm trying to earn the opportunity to kiss you more."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So do it," Lambert dares him, because fuck it, if he's in for a penny he's in for a pound. All he knows is that his dick is hard and he wants to kiss Aiden more, so he's going to roll with that and figure out the rest later. "Kiss me. Like you mean it this time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's a little flicker in Aiden's expression that Lambert identifies as like when you see lions about to pounce on their prey, and then Aiden is on him and giving him exactly what he asked for. One hand comes up to rest on Lambert's chest, pushing him backwards until his back hits the wall. Lambert is pinned there as Aiden kisses him, confident and a little demanding, and </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> this is so much better. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The hand that's currently pressed over Lambert's rabbit-quick heartbeat slides up to curl around the back of Lambert's neck, squeezing gently, holding Lambert in place. The other is on his waist, overtop of his shirt, and Lambert tries to think of a good reason why he should take his shirt off, too. He wants to know what it feels like to have those hands on his bare skin, gripping him like that. He can't think of anything that sounds less dumb than </span>
  <em>
    <span>touch me, I'm horny</span>
  </em>
  <span> so instead Lambert just decides to lead by example. Maybe if he touches Aiden, then he'll catch on and return the favor already.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This whole thing is a shitshow though, because putting his hands on Aiden was really just supposed to be a demonstration, not something that turns Lambert on even more. He doesn't expect for him to feel so... good. He's got these stupid back muscles that flex under his hands whenever Aiden moves, and who fuckin knew that Lambert has a thing for making out with someone who could probably beat the shit out of him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, that's not right. Not beat the shit out of him. Just... put him in a good place and keep him there. That's what's making him want to rewrite his whole goddamn understanding of the universe here.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There's maybe one functional brain cell left in Lambert's head that's thinking about the fact that he and Aiden are making out at work with one less shirt than is normally acceptable in a kitchen. All the other brain cells are thinking about how he wonders what Aiden's ass feels like. He wants to slide his hand down and see for himself. He even manages to control that impulse for almost fifteen seconds before he says </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck it</span>
  </em>
  <span> and just goes for it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's kind of expecting Aiden to punch him for that, but he's definitely </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> getting punched right now. Instead, Aiden's hips are grinding forward into his and oh fuck that's a boner rubbing up against his boner and that's a new and slightly bizarre sensation. Not-- not </span>
  <em>
    <span>bad</span>
  </em>
  <span> or anything, Lambert kind of wants to do that some more because it actually feels really fucking good, but </span>
  <em>
    <span>holy shit this is happening really fast.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait, wait, hold the fuck up," he says, breaking away from the kiss and pushing Aiden back a little, "I gotta-- I need a second."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sorry, sorry," Aiden says, moving back out of Lambert's space at once. He looks a little sheepish, but also way more fucked out than anyone has a right to look. "Got a little, uh, carried away there. You alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No, he's irritated because he already misses the feel of Aiden's hands pushing him around holding him close. "Yeah, I just-- need a second to process." Oh, great. Now he sounds like an idiot. "I'm not gay," he decides to explain. "I've never been attracted to men."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except now he's </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> a fuckin' idiot, because Aiden looks like Lambert just slapped him. "Oh. Alright. Uh, I'll--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I meant until now," Lambert rushes to finish. "I think. I mean, I know I'm attracted to you, and you're a man, so that's... I don't know. I don't know what the fuck that means."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden blinks at him for a second, and then the barest hint of his trademark smirk returns to his face. "So just to be clear, you </span>
  <em>
    <span>do</span>
  </em>
  <span> find me attractive?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert looks down at his crotch. His apron is doing a good job of preserving his modesty, but if they'd been close enough a minute ago that he could feel that Aiden was hard, it's probably a safe fuckin' bet that Aiden knows what's up with him, too. "Yeah. Definitely... that. I don't know what kind of label that earns me, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Labels are overrated anyways," shrugs Aiden, and he steps back in towards Lambert. Not like before, where they're pressed together, but close enough that Lambert kind of wants them to be. "Either way, I'm glad to hear it. I like you, Bert. If you're going to have a queer awakening, I'd be happy to be a part of it. If you want that," he finishes quickly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I--" For the first time since he'd picked up the sprayer, Lambert is at a loss. He'd started this whole thing with a master plan, but that isn't worth shit now because he hadn't really expected things to pan out this way. How the fuck was he supposed to know that he'd wind up making out with Aiden and getting-- what, asked out? "I want you to put a fuckin' shirt on, is what I want," he says gruffly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No you don't," argues Aiden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I don't," Lambert agrees. "But I can't fuckin' focus on this conversation with you standing there looking all..." He waves a hand vaguely to encompass Aiden's entire being. "So do you mind, asshole?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden obliges with a grin, finally putting on the shirt that had gotten dropped on the floor somewhere in this whole process. "Don't think I'm not onto you, by the way," he remarks, squinting suspiciously at Lambert. The twinkle in his eye gives him away. "Tricking me into taking my shirt off? Honestly, Lamby, that's beneath you. You should have gone straight for the money, sprayed the bottom half. Then you could have seen--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to go out with you sometime," Lambert blurts out, interrupting him before Aiden gets him all distracted again or he wimps out. "I wanna see you. Outside of work. Like a... date, or whatever."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A date?" Aiden asks, looking a little surprised in spite of his bravado. "Really? And here I thought you only wanted me for my body."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"The rest of you isn't so bad, so yeah. A date." Lambert shrugs, as if the question doesn't matter and neither does the answer. "Or whatever. If you want."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh, I </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> want to take you on a date," Aiden says without hesitation. "You just name the time and the place, and I'm there. Although, speaking of times and places--" Aiden looks at his watch with a little frown, then digs in the pocket of his stupid shorts and fishes out a pen. Without warning, he snags Lambert's wrist and pulls his arm out straight in front of him, then proceeds to scrawl a series of numbers on the inside of Lambert's forearm, followed by a smiley face. "There you go. That'll give you something to look at when you go jerk off, and then you can use it to text me later."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert stands there gaping for a minute as Aiden leans in quick as can be and kisses him on the cheek, then grabs his hand truck and starts to make his exit.  "I'm not going to jerk off," he finally defends, way too late to be believable. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Sure, Lamby, sure," Aiden laughs, throwing a wave over his shoulder. "Don't forget to text later."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's... definitely going to jerk off. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>..................... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This should not be happening. Whatever the fuck is wrong with him, it needs to stop, </span>
  <em>
    <span>now,</span>
  </em>
  <span> because this is not the kind of person Lambert wants to be. He just needs to get his shit together and shut it down.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because the fact that he's cuddling on the couch with Aiden watching Parks and Rec after a mini-golf date? That's a secret Lambert will take to his grave.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay, cuddling might be a strong word. Technically they're on separate ends of the couch, and the only part of them that's touching is their legs. And Aiden's bare feet, which are shoved underneath Lambert's ass because he said they were cold. Every now and then he'll feel the toes wiggle, and it's fuckin' weird. It's also kind of cute, though, in a weird way. It's just weird but he's rolling with it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which is kind of the theme of the night. He'd met up with Aiden at the other man's apartment, and as soon as he'd heard that they were heading to go play fuckin' </span>
  <em>
    <span>mini-golf</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things, he knew it was going to be a shitshow. Lambert doesn't even go on dates, let alone go on dates out of a rom com. He'd been fully prepared to hate it. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>hadn't</span>
  </em>
  <span> been prepared for how hard Aiden would laugh when Lambert got frustrated on the final hole and ran up to the windmill to throw the ball through with a string of creative curses. He </span>
  <em>
    <span>definitely</span>
  </em>
  <span> hadn't been prepared for how that made his stomach get all fluttery and made him want to do a bunch of other dumb shit to make Aiden laugh more.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that, Aiden had invited him back to his apartment, and Lambert's not an idiot, okay? He knows what that means. 'Eat pizza and watch a movie or something' means fucking. He might be anti-social, but he's heard of Netflix and Chill. He's also not the kind of punk to back down from a challenge, so he said yes anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except that they really did get pizza, and they really did put on Netflix and settle on a show they both like and lay there on the couch watching it together. One of Lambert's socked feet has wound up on Aiden's stomach, and every time something funny happens on the show, he can feel Aiden's quiet snicker. Aiden's hand is wrapped casually around Lambert's ankle, as if they're holding hands and just got their limbs mixed up. It's weird.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's weird, and it's also... nice. It feels good. He liked being out with Aiden and being so obnoxious that they got threatened with mini-golf course eviction. He also likes being here and being quiet, with his belly full and his legs tangled up and a clear view of both the TV and Aiden. It feels better than Lambert has felt around any human being that wasn't his family in a very long time.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's staring at Aiden, and he tries to stop, but the bastard catches him anyways. "Take a picture, Lamby, it'll last longer."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't wanna break my phone," Lambert fires back on instinct, then makes a face. Yeah, great move. Call the guy you're on a date with ugly. He should write a book about how to be a dumbass.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Luckily, Aiden doesn't seem to be offended. "I'd pretend to be wounded, but my self-esteem is too high," he laughs, then squeezes Lambert's ankle gently. "What's got you all tense? Don't think I haven't noticed you over there fidgeting for the past twenty minutes." Lambert doesn't answer right away, and Aiden's smile falters a little. "If you're ready to go, it's fine. I don't want to take up your whole night."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I--" Fuck, he's going to have to explain himself now or look like an even bigger asshole. "I just wasn't expecting this."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Expecting what, exactly?" Aiden cocks his head at Lambert curiously.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I was thinking that we'd... you know. Be having sex." He's not blushing. His face feels really hot, but Lambert </span>
  <em>
    <span>refuses</span>
  </em>
  <span> to believe that he's blushing right now. "We're Netflix and chilling, but we're not </span>
  <em>
    <span>Netflix and chilling.</span>
  </em>
  <span> I thought with all of the flirting you've done with me, you'd be in full seduction mode by now."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden flashes him a brief grin, but then his expression settles into something softer. "Flirting is different than being on a date, Lambert. Winking at you while you're at work and implying that I'd like to fuck you six ways to Sunday is one thing. Inviting you over to my apartment for the first time and then getting handsy with you with no prior discussion is another. I'm trying to encourage you to go out with me again sometime, not be a creep. I know how to keep my hands to myself."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh." Lambert probably is blushing now, god damn it. Or flushing. With embarrassment. Because he's basically just implied that Aiden is some kind of stereotypical prick who only thinks about sex and doesn't know how to read a room. "That... makes sense."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He isn't even sure what kind of look he was going for there with his blank expression, but Aiden must see right through it either way. "Are you... disappointed?" He's trying very hard not to smirk, Lambert can tell. Lambert wants to slap his stupid face. Or kiss it, one of the two.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No," he answers, then immediately caves. "Yes. Kind of. I don't know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, I didn't have any </span>
  <em>
    <span>particular </span>
  </em>
  <span>plans to ravish you tonight, since half the time if I look at you too quickly you look half ready to bolt. I figured I'd give you a few more dates to get comfortable before I </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> turned on the charm. But if there's something you think I could be doing to make your evening even more pleasant... just say the word."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He winks at Lambert one more time and then turns his attention back to the screen, hand still resting on Lambert's ankle, just like that. Simple, like he really is giving Lambert all the power here. Like their whole evening just boils down to what Lambert wants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That's... different.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert turns his face back toward the TV too, but he isn't seeing a damn thing that's happening on the screen. He's too busy thinking about every date that he's ever been on, and wondering if it was ever this easy. It hasn't been, not that he can remember. He's always had to walk on eggshells with his dates, trying to keep his stupid mouth in check before it puts him out in the cold. Not like this, where he can make stupid jokes and awkward comments and Aiden just smiles at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Maybe it's a gender thing, since before tonight all of Lambert's dates have been women. Maybe it's just an Aiden thing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If they'd been closer to each other, Aiden probably would have been able to hear the way that Lambert spends the next ten minutes with his heart pounding and his breathing shallow, trying to work up the nerve to say something. It only gets weirder as the minutes tick onward. It's been too long since Aiden said the thing, and it'll be awkward if he says something back </span>
  <em>
    <span>now.</span>
  </em>
  <span> The quiet between them presses on him, keeping his mouth shut, like it's impossible to just open his mouth and </span>
  <em>
    <span>say something.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Paying him no mind, Aiden laughs at something on the screen. "I fucking love the way that Andy--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I want to make out with you," Lambert blurts out, breaking through the hole Aiden chipped into the ice and inhaling a lungful of air. "That would be nice."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Oh thank god, I thought you'd never ask," Aiden breathes, and then he's shuffling around on the couch until he's laying on top of Lambert. "How did my 'cool and casual' routine work?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A hell of a lot better than mine, apparently."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden laughs just a little, and then he's kissing Lambert. It kind of feels like when you're in a dark room and you've been fumbling around running your hands along all the walls looking for a light switch, and then you finally find it and everything get so clear so fast that you can't hardly process what's happening. Aiden is a light source, suddenly illuminated, warming Lambert from head to toe. There's no other way to describe it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Am I too heavy?" Aiden asks a few minutes later, when he manages to wrench his lips free of Lambert's long enough to speak. "I'm laying on you, I don't want to squish you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, no," Lambert says quickly. Too quickly. He considers trying to backtrack, but honestly, what's the point? He might as well be an open book, for how skilled he is at keeping his goddamn mouth shut around Aiden. "I like it," he decides to answer honestly. "Feels good. Like one of those heavy-ass blankets they make that are supposed to make you sleep better."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Ah, so I'm putting you to sleep?" Aiden asks wickedly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"No, I meant--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yeah, I know what you meant, you meatball. Shut up and kiss me some more."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He's into it. Holy fuck, is he into it. There's something about the way that Aiden's hands feel when they're on him that just makes everything disconnect, but in a good way. They're not even going anywhere special. Aiden confines his hand to the sides of Lambert's face, his neck, his shoulders. Nowhere that's supposed to be sexual or whatever. It could really almost be platonic, if you think about it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except for the fact that Lambert is more aroused than he's ever been, possibly, but that's whatever.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So uh, how's all that 'processing you're attracted to a man' thing going for you?" Aiden asks, breathless against Lambert's lips. "Made any headway on that situation?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Mostly just processing how hard my dick is," Lambert replies after a delay that's only slightly embarrassing.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden starts to slide off of him, which wasn't Lambert's intention at all, but it's probably a good thing anyways. It gives him a second to breathe and think clearly, without inhaling a lungful of Aiden at every moment. He doesn't go far, though, just far enough so that he's sitting back on his haunches, straddling Lambert's legs, and far enough away that Lambert has a chance to miss him. "I could help you with that, if you wanted," he says casually, eyes sliding down Lambert's torso to take in the conspicuous tenting of his jeans. "Or you could also go home, if you'd rather hit the pause button. Your choice."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Seems like a loaded choice," Lambert mumbles, fingers tapping nervously on the side of Aiden's knee.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not loaded at all. It's up to you, and there's no hard feelings either way. Only thing I'd be disappointed about would be if you were doing something you didn't want to and weren't having a good time." Aiden shrugs. "We could also go back to just watching TV, that's also an option."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ugh, options. Lambert hates making choices. He's an overthinker, which means that even small, stupid decisions become big, stressful ones. If he says that he wants to stop, Aiden is going to think that he's a wuss-- or worse, that he's not into him. Those aren't true and he doesn't want Aiden to think that, but on the other hand, he isn't sure he's ready for the alternative either. If he lets things continue, there's no telling how far it'll go. What if Aiden suggests something that Lambert didn't even know was a possibility? What if Lambert's really bad at it? What if--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shut up."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert blinks up at Aiden, confused. "What the fuck? I didn't even say anything."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're thinking really loud. It's painful to watch." Aiden's smile is soft and not as teasing as his words. "Look, if you have to think that hard about the answer, it's probably a no. It's fine, there's no rush, I'll just--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts to move back, off of Lambert, but Lambert catches him by the hips before he can go far. "Wait, wait, I was just... what did you have in mind? Like, if I said yes, what would you want to do?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well, that would be negotiable, but if I had my druthers..." Aiden leans back a bit, stroking his chin consideringly. "I seem to recall being told to 'suck a fat one' by several cookies at Kaer Morsels, so that seems like a solid plan. How does that sound?"</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>A blowjob,</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lambert thinks with relief. He can handle that. He's had loads of blowjobs before. Nothing to be nervous about there, and plenty of things to be excited about. "Sounds like I'm not stupid enough to turn down an offer like that," he grins.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lambert," says Aiden seriously, "never underestimate how stupid you are."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He gets smacked in the side of the head by a throw pillow for that, but that doesn't seem to deter Aiden any. He climbs off of Lambert and kneels beside the couch, leaving Lambert to stare at him blankly for a minute before his brain catches up and he realizes what Aiden wants from him. Then he's scrambling to comply, hurriedly sitting up and turning so that he's facing Aiden properly, his feet flat on the floor with Aiden kneeling between them.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A few rules," Aiden says as he runs his hands up Lambert's thighs, and Lambert shivers, his stomach fluttering at the words and the touch. He nods once to show he's listening as Aiden works to unfasten his jeans and pull them and his boxers down around his thighs. "First, communicate. You need me to stop or slow down or do something different, say so. The whole point is that it feels good for you. Second, you can put your hands in my hair, and pull on it if you wanna, but don't hold me down on your cock and don't start fucking my mouth without warning. I like to choke on dick on my own terms. You with me so far?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Um, yeah," Lambert says dumbly. "I can... yes. Okay."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good boy." Lambert's breath catches at the words, and that only serves to make Aiden's smile feral. "Oh, now see, that's just unfair. You're going to make me rethink my third rule, looking at me like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As if Lambert has any fuckin' control over what his body is doing right now. He's just along for the ride. "What's the third rule?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Third rule is that you can come whenever you want to, whether it's five seconds from now or five hours. But now you've got me thinking all kinds of things about how you'd probably like it if I made you ask for permission first." Lambert's cock is fully exposed at this point, and Aiden reaches up and runs a fingertip down the underside, enough to make Lambert shiver. "Hmm? Clearly you like being good for me. Wonder if you'd like it as much if I told you to wait."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert opens his mouth. Shuts it. Repeats it a couple of times before he actually thinks of words to say. "Never had someone try to boss me around like this before," he finally settles on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well that's a damn shame, since you seem like you're enjoying it." There's that one goddamn fingertip again, running back up towards the tip. "But hey, it's never too late to teach an old dog new kinks."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Is that what this is, a kink? Lambert's always been a little vanilla, by his own admission. He doesn't live under a rock, he knows that there are people out there who like getting flogged by women in leather or having rods shoved down their cocks, and that's all well and good for them, but that's never been of interest to him. He's into sex that feels good, not sex that hurts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But this... is it a kink, to like the idea of Aiden telling him what to do and him doing it? To be told that he's good even when all he's doing is sitting there listening to Aiden talk? Does it have something to do with the way that his dick twitches when Aiden grabs him by the hips and tugs them closer to the edge of the couch like he's a toy that Aiden is eager to play with? Is that a kink?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because if it is, Lambert definitely has that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're thinking again," Aiden says with amusement.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert closes his eyes. "So make me stop."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It isn't his first blow job or anywhere near it, and Lambert's not about to get dramatic and say that it's world changing. To a certain extent, a mouth on your dick is a mouth on your dick. It all feels good. It is different though, just a little. For one thing, Aiden is fearless. He pushes his head down he doesn't even know what a gag reflex is. For another, sometimes when he takes Lambert deep, the scruff of his beard scrapes at the inside of Lambert's thighs and they shake, which is a new and not half fuckin bad experience. He could get used to that, for damn sure.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But most of all, it's different because Aiden isn't trying to impress him. He's not trying to put on a show with all of the batting of eyelashes and moaning and posing that some of Lambert's past encounters have involved. There's a certain directness to what Aiden is doing, a certain forcefulness, that says that he has one singular goal --making Lambert feel good-- and he's not going to be distracted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And he's fuckin' succeeding, too. His hands are digging into Lambert's hips, keeping him pinned to the couch even when Aiden seems determined to suck him right off of it, dick first. Lambert does put his hands in Aiden's hair after a minute, and his loose hold on Aiden's head only helps him feel how determinedly Aiden sinks his mouth onto Lambert's cock with each bob. It's like he's desperate for it, always reaching to take in a little bit more, to get a little bit closer, until on one particular motion Lambert feels lips brush the dark hair at the base of his cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes a noise. It isn't a whimper, because Lambert isn't going to admit that a goddamn whimper came out of his mouth. It was definitely some way more dignified sound than a whimper, though.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Breathing is getting a little difficult now. His chest is heaving with the strain of keeping up with how the tension is ratcheting higher between his legs with every beat. One of Aiden's hands leaves his hip and skims up over his chest, thumbing over his nipple for a second before going higher. Fingertips skim over his throat and cup his jaw for just the slightest of moments before two fingers are sliding into Lambert's open mouth and just... filling him up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert comes. He doesn't think about warning the man with his cock down his throat, doesn't think about whether there might have been some sort of purpose behind those fingers being in his mouth. He just feels that weight on his tongue, stuffing him and gagging him, at the same time that the delicious ring of suction that Aiden's mouth makes slides down his cock from tip to root, and he's done for. He manages to get out one, "Fuck!" and tries desperately to control the buck of his hips as he spills right into Aiden's mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden pulls back a little bit in what might be a gag, but it doesn't stop him from swallowing everything. After he pulls off, one more dribble of cum pulses out of Lambert's cock, and Aiden even darts in to lick that up, too, like ice cream dripping down the outside of a cone that he doesn't want to go to waste. The thought makes him want to laugh, but it just comes out as a weird, strangled sort of noise instead.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You alright up there, Lamby?" Aiden asks with a single raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>No. "Yeah. I'm-- thanks."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hi Thanks, I'm Aiden." Lambert huffs out a breath and rolls his eyes at the terrible joke, which only makes Aiden laugh harder at his own expense. "Alright, alright, don't give me that look. I'm not going to ruin your afterglow with shitty dad jokes. Here, let me just-- budge up your hips, will you? I'm trying to pull your pants back up so you-- there we go."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as Aiden stands from his kneeling position, Lambert feels his mouth go dry as he's suddenly at eye level with Aiden's own cock. He's obviously hard, and Lambert finds himself compelled to reach out and take him in hand. That would probably be weird, right? You can't just go around grabbing people's dicks without warning. He could ask, but that's probably weird, too. Which leaves... sitting here like an idiot staring at Aiden's crotch. Great option.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except that Aiden saves him by putting one hand gently beneath Lambert's chin and tilting it up, until their eyes meet and Lambert can see how blown out Aiden's pupils look. Is that just from looking at him? "There he goes again, wandering off, my little lamb," Aiden mutters. "Something you want to say?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He should just say it. It isn't that hard. He opens his big fat mouth and makes sounds and then this sudden moment of tension goes away. "I--" he starts, and then the words fail. It's too vulnerable all of a sudden, like if he dares to ask it, then there's a chance that this weird, tenative, too-good moment is going to shatter and he's going to be sitting here looking stupid for saying it. It's hard to convince himself to speak at the same time he's bracing himself for the other shoe to drop, and all that comes out is a slightly panicked noise. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Fuck.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Suddenly two strong, calloused hands are cupping Lambert's face and Aiden's leaning down to press a tender kiss to his lips. He tastes like Lambert. "Hey, take a breath. I can see you spiraling. The answer's yes, Bert, I just want to hear you ask. Can you do that for me? Can you tell me what you want so that I can give it to you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck it. No guts no glory, right? "Shit. Can I-- try yours? Please?" He hears someone say, and he's pretty sure that it's his own mouth that did the talking. Nailed it.</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Good</span>
  </em>
  <span> boy," Aiden says immediately, kissing Lambert again, fiercer. "Yes, of course you can. Fuck, you ask that like I'm doing </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span> a favor. Even used your manners and everything. What'd I do to deserve you so sweet?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That kinda makes him want to say something rude, just on principle, because Lambert is </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> sweet. It'd probably make Aiden laugh. He doesn't want to make him laugh, though, he wants to make him feel good. Instead of answering, Lambert just moves to unfasten the front of his jeans as Aiden straightens, pulling the fly open and pulling them down a bit so that he can see the deep red of Aiden's boxers and the even darker red spot at the tip of the outline of his very hard cock.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's bizarrely intimidating. It's not like it's the first time he's seen a dick before. It's not even the first time he's seen someone </span>
  <em>
    <span>else's</span>
  </em>
  <span> dick before. It </span>
  <em>
    <span>is, </span>
  </em>
  <span> however, the first time that he's been faced with one that's hard because of him, and one that he's intending to do something about. Whatever, how weird can it be? After all, it's basically like jerking off, just at a different angle, right?</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Wrong. It feels really fucking different when he wraps his hand around Aiden's cock. For one thing, it's a whole different size and shape than his own, so it fits different in his hand. His is shorter and thicker than Aiden's, and maybe it's just the new angle but he definitely feels like it curves differently. It's also weird that it's not his dick so he can't feel what it's like when he gives it a stroke. How the fuck is he supposed to know if he's doing it right, or if it would feel better if he did it tighter or slower or something? Then Aiden gives a little happy noise, and Lambert looks up to see him looking at Lambert as if he's going to devour him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. That's how.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He starts off with what he likes, running his palm across the tip of Aiden's cock to collect the precum, then spitting in his hand for good measure so that the motion of his hand is nice and slicked. From there, he follows Aiden's reactions. He likes it slow, not as tight as Lambert does when he touches himself, and he </span>
  <em>
    <span>really </span>
  </em>
  <span>likes it when Lambert gets curious and uses his free hand to cup his balls and roll them around a bit. "Clever hands, should have known," Aiden groans, almost sounding like he's in pain if it weren't for the definite evidence of him enjoying himself that Lambert has before him. "Fuck. You're doing perfect, lamb, feels so good."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The words are like a shot of adrenaline zipping down Lambert's spine. He can do this. Fuck that, he can do </span>
  <em>
    <span>better</span>
  </em>
  <span> than this. "Wanna blow you," he says boldly before he can think twice.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden doesn't question his decision or give him shit for how obviously eager he is, he just nods and runs his thumb over Lambert's lip. "Go slow."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Having Aiden's cock in his hand was one thing, but having it in his mouth... this is a whole fucking different level. The taste of his precum, all musky and a little gross but kind of in an interesting way. The weight of him on Lambert's tongue. It's fucking weird, but it's also... good. It feels nice. It feels like a kind of intimate that he hasn't felt before, being here with his hands and his mouth wrapped around the most delicate part of someone. Having part of someone else </span>
  <em>
    <span>inside</span>
  </em>
  <span> of him. It's kind of powerful actually, a little heady, and Lambert pushes forward to take Aiden deeper--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>--and immediately gags and has to pull off completely. "Fuck."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Easy, easy," Aiden gentles him. "You alright?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Of course I'm fucking alright," Lambert snaps, scowling. "I can do this, it's just-- different. But I can do it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never said you couldn't," Aiden says, unbothered by the attitude. "Clever hands and a clever mouth, I know you. That's why I told you to go slow, though. Get used to it. It'll be more fun for you if you're not fighting your gag reflex the whole time."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That... sounds reasonable. Not that he's going to admit that </span>
  <em>
    <span>out loud</span>
  </em>
  <span> or anything, because then Aiden would think that he was right, but anyways.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries again, slower this time, and honestly, he instantly feels more respect for every woman who's ever given him a blow job before, because this shit isn't easy. There's the gag reflex, and the fact that his lips keep getting dry and dragging weirdly along the skin of Aiden's cock, and the fact that he can't fit anywhere </span>
  <em>
    <span>near</span>
  </em>
  <span> the whole thing in his mouth without dying, probably, so he has to keep jerking off some of it instead. And seriously, the taste isn't exactly sugarplums either.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he keeps going, because he's pretty sure that he could get drunk off of the words and sounds coming out of Aiden's mouth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually, an unfamiliar ache starts up at the corner of his jaw, and he winces with the sudden need to do something with his mouth other than have it hanging wide open. Right, so that's why people take pauses when sucking dick to kiss your balls and stuff. Makes sense. He does that, screwing his eyes shut at the twinge, but before he can find something else to do, there's thumbs pressing into the curve of his jaw on either side, rubbing lightly exactly where it hurts. "Getting sore?" Aiden murmurs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The pressure feels heavenly, but Lambert shakes off his touch anyways. "I'm fine."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Look, Lambert, I already know you have a big dick, you don't have to keep trying to prove it to me with the tough guy routine." Aiden's hand grabs at his chin again, but this time it's to tilt it back, until Lambert is looking up at Aiden with the tip of his cock resting on his lips. He wonders if he looks half as good as Aiden did from this angle. "You said you agreed to be honest about this, so I'll ask again. Your jaw starting to hurt yet?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>God damn it, he's right. The terms are kind of bullshit, but Lambert </span>
  <em>
    <span>did</span>
  </em>
  <span> agree to them, and he's not a fuckin liar. "Yeah," he grudgingly admits.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I bet. You're working hard down there, no wonder you're sore."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's bullshit praise, probably, because he was barely doing anything and probably not doing any part of it right, but the compliment makes Lambert feel all warm anyways. "Can I have a break and then keep going?" he asks, and holy fucking shit if someone had told him a week ago that he'd be asking permission to return to sucking a cock he would have laughed them off the face of the earth.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not gonna last long enough for that, gorgeous," Aiden sighs, leaning over so that he can capture Lambert's mouth in a kiss. "I don't need you to do a goddamn thing for me other than just sit there and continue being perfect."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert is distracted by the kiss, enough that it takes him a second to notice that one of Aiden's hands is working his cock now, stroking it faster than before, and when Lambert opens his eyes and takes a peek, he sees a fresh drop of precum dewing at the tip before Aiden's fist swipes it away. He must be getting close, judging by the uneven breaths that Aiden is dragging in and the subtle shaking of the free hand that has returned to massaging Lambert's jaw, and then Lambert has to break the kiss entirely so that he can say, "I want you to come in my mouth."</span>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>"Fuck</span>
  </em>
  <span> yes," Aiden says immediately and straightens once more, working his cock a mere inch from Lambert's lips. "Open up for me, lamb."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He makes a face. He doesn't mean to, but he does. It's not like it's a super sexy or delicious flavor. Aiden's cum, when it hits Lambert's tongue in warm stripes, isn't going to make his list of top five favorite foods. He's going to be tasting a lot more of it in the future, though, if he has anything to say about it, because the noise that Aiden makes when Lambert kisses the tip and feels a little cum dripping down his chin... that shit's fuckin' worth it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He swallows it all because he's not a punk, and he's still trying to suppress a bit of a gag reflex so that he can apologize when Aiden is crowding into his space. He kneels on the sofa, straddling Lambert's lap as best he can with his jeans still around his thighs and kissing him frantically. "That was perfect," he purrs, tongue darting out to lick his own cum off of his lips after the messy kiss. "You're so fucking good for me. Saying it's your first time with a man... coulda fooled me with a mouth like that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're so full of shit," Lambert tells him, embarrassed, trying to pull away. He doesn't get far, only enough room to maneuver his face against Aiden's chest, but that's at least </span>
  <em>
    <span>some</span>
  </em>
  <span> coverage. He can feel Aiden's heart pounding in his chest still. "I know I'm not a fuckin' expert at... that."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not yet, maybe, but I think you've got the seeds of a real talent, there," Aiden laughs. He uses one hand to clumsily pull his pants back up, while the other scratches lightly at Lambert's scalp. "Hey, check in with me. How are you feeling after that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That's a big question. "I feel... everything," he settles on answering after a minute. "That doesn't make sense, but whatever."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Are you..." Aiden trails off, but he holds his position kneeling there in Lambert's lap and scratching his scalp. It feels real fuckin' nice. "Did you enjoy that? Sucking me off?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I liked making you feel good," answers Lambert. "That was really... good. I know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that, so it was cool to do that for you. I didn't like--" He bites off the words. Aiden has a bad habit of making him run his mouth when he ought to shut the hell up. Better to stop while he's ahead with this whole post-dick-sucking conversation.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You didn't like what?" Aiden asks. Lambert doesn't answer, and after a moment he prompts, "Can't do anything to make it better unless you talk to me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's stupid."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm into </span>
  <em>
    <span>you,</span>
  </em>
  <span> so we've already established that I like stupid," Aiden teases. "C'mon, whatever it is, I'm not going to laugh. Or give you shit, or whatever you're worried about. Not about this. Want you happy and comfortable when you're with me, so if there's something I can do to make that happen, I want to know about it."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck. How does he always say sentimental shit like that and make it sound like he actually means it? "I didn't like not being good at it," he finally admits through gritted teeth. "I know you're not going to be a dick about it, because you're not a dick, but I just..."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"It's just hard to put your ass on the line trying something new," Aiden finishes for him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Especially when you actually give a shit about the person you're trying to impress," grumbles Lambert.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nice to hear that you give a shit about me," Aiden laughs a little, breathily. "Alright, do you want the serious response or the dumbass response?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Dumbass."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Had a feeling you'd choose that one. In that case, if you're worried about not being good at sucking cock, you know what they say... practice makes perfect. Feel free to enlist my help in your training regimen anytime, really. I volunteer as tribute." Lambert pinches him in the side, but refuses to let go when Aiden yelps and tries to squirm away. "Fuck! Hey, you asked for it! I specifically warned you that was the dumbass response."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Far be it from Lambert to ask for serious adult conversation, but like, "What's the other response?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This time, Aiden takes his face between his hands and forces him to look at him again, face serious and soft. "The other response is that I didn't spend so long flirting my ass off because I thought you were a porn star, I did it because I like you. And I still do. More and more as I get to know you better, actually. I like being intimate with you and trying new things, and who gives a fuck if that's not perfect. I'm not into perfection, I just want you, Lambert."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert opens and closes his mouth a few times searching for a response to that, and when he finds none, he just hides his face in the crook of Aiden's neck. Aiden lets him, and curls a strong hand around the back of Lambert's neck, and everything feels like it's going to be alright.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Tomorrow he's going to make a tray of cookies shaped like blue ribbons that say "world's okayest orgasm giver" and if he eats the whole batch it'll be his own fuckin' business.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>..................... </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You know if Eskel comes in here and sees this, he's going to be pissed as hell, right?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Don't give a fuck. My boyfriend can beat him up," Lambert replies flippantly, turning his head to seek a kiss over his shoulder that Aiden gives him willingly. A thrill flickers in his belly at the word. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Boyfriend.</span>
  </em>
  <span> He didn't used to like sappy shit like that, but the first time Aiden had asked him about 'slapping a label on this shitshow and making it official' he'd instantly felt the urge to have that tie, even an imaginary one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A month ago he was pretty sure he was straight. Now he has a boyfriend. Life is fuckin' weird like that.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Have you ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>seen</span>
  </em>
  <span> Eskel? You've got too much faith in me," Aiden mumbles. "I thought you said they wouldn't have an issue with us?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>By the way, it is very, </span>
  <em>
    <span>very</span>
  </em>
  <span> difficult to focus on this conversation with three of Aiden's fingers inside of him deliberately </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> rubbing his prostate the way he likes. It means that he's spending a lot of brain energy trying to ride said fingers to get it to feel like he wants. "Nah, not gonna have an issue with us. Gonna have an issue with us fucking on his desk, though."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Only if he catches us," Aiden points out, removing his fingers and wiping his hands on the skirt of Lambert’s apron.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert spreads his legs wider and plants his hands more firmly on the surface of Eskel's desk in the little back office of Kaer Morsels. "And when have I ever been able to keep quiet when I'm getting fucked?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Never," admits Aiden, rubbing the tip of his cock back and forth across Lambert's entrance, teasing. "But I love the sound of your voice, so then again I've never tried to get you to keep your mouth shut before. What do you think, little lamb? Think you can stay quiet and take my cock like a good boy?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Fuck he's hard, he's really, </span>
  <em>
    <span>really</span>
  </em>
  <span> hard. "Yes," he whispers.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes </span>
  <em>
    <span>what?" </span>
  </em>
  <span>Aiden challenges, voice soft and demanding next to Lambert's ear.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Yes </span>
  <em>
    <span>dumbass."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden laughs, muffling the sound in Lambert's shoulder, and presses his cock inside where it belongs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It's... harder than he expected to keep quiet. Look, the feeling of Aiden's cock rubbing across his prostate over and over again, even with him pulling his punches in order to cut down on the noise? Fuckin' unreasonable. Unreasonably good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Shh, shh, quiet down, sweetheart," Aiden murmurs in his ear, voice only a little unsteady. "I know how much you love my cock, but if you don't follow directions I'll have to stop. You don't want that, do you?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert shakes his head, eyes screwed shut, and licks his lips. "Need help," he whispers as quietly as he possibly can.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Love it when you tell me what you need," Aiden says with a purr-like rumble of approval. One of his hands leaves Lambert's hips and comes around to cover his mouth, the callouses of his palm rough against Lambert's lips. "Of course I'll help you, little lamb. Double tap the desk if you need me to stop."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes faster then, with his hand there to muffle all of the little noises that Lambert can't hold in. It's a vicious cycle, though, because the harder he fucks Lambert, the more noise he makes. He needs a gag or something, which is a terrible thing to think about because now Lambert is thinking about sex toys  and making a shopping list in his head and that's not helping the situation at all and holy fuck everything is so good right now--</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Lambert, what the fuck are you doing back h-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh shit!"</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Eskel, Lambert's newly least favorite brother, stands there dumbfounded in the doorway to the office for a second staring at him and Aiden as the two of them freeze in place. His expression is somewhere between horror and fascination, and he just keeps looking back and forth between their faces and their... other parts. Lambert reaches up to pull Aiden's hand away from his mouth so he can say, "Listen. I can explain--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Nope, nope, don't want to hear it," Eskel interrupts, shaking himself out of his daze and covering his ears like a little kid. "Holy fuck do I not want to hear it. I've already heard way too much of it. Just-- oh my god. I'm going to go rinse my eyes with bleach. What the </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>He beats a hasty retreat from the room, slamming the door behind him, and silence rings in the little office for a long moment. Finally Aiden clears his throat. "Well, on the bright side, you don't have to worry about how to tell your brothers about us anymore. Mission accomplished."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"One final victory before I'm sent to an early grave," Lambert hums. He's not really concerned; Eskel's a big boy who can get the fuck over it. The only true fatality here is his boner, which has flagged remarkably quickly which adrenaline and embarrassment. He takes himself in hand and tries to remedy the situation, but to no avail. His dick's interest in the proceedings has well and truly ended. "Fuck. So much for some afternoon delight."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden nudges Lambert's hand aside and makes his own attempt, finding much the same results. "Another good nooner lost to friendly fire," he says gravely, dropping a quick kiss to Lambert's shoulder as he starts to pull out slowly. "Give me a second, I'll find something to clean the lube off of you--"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Wait," says Lambert, reaching back to grab at Aiden's hip and halt his progress. </span>
  <em>
    <span>"Your</span>
  </em>
  <span> dick is fine. Keep going."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Not gonna keep fucking you when you're not hard, babe," Aiden retorts, not unkindly. "It's fine, really."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I like it," Lambert blurts out before he has the wherewithal to stop himself. He twists at the waist so that he can look back at Aiden, still frozen behind him with the tip of his cock inside of Lambert. "I mean I like the idea of it. You... using me to get off. It's kinda... hot. Or whatever. The idea of you wanting me that bad. Being used like your favorite toy. I don't know."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>For a long moment, Aiden just stares at him, an odd expression on his face and his breath heaving, and then he's grabbing Lambert by the chin and kissing him roughly as he slides his cock back inside of him. "You're going to fuckin' ruin me," he says, voice cracking, punctuating his words with the smack of skin on skin as he drives their hips together harder than before, heedless of noise. He swallows up Lambert's pleased groan. "So fuckin' good for me. Got me so spoiled, getting to love on you like this, you know that?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Good," Lambert grunts, collapsing forward once more as Aiden releases his jaw in favor of grabbing handfuls of his hips again. He's getting well and truly fucked now, and his legs tremble and threaten to give out beneath him any minute now if he doesn't hold himself up. "That's the master plan." </span>
  <em>
    <span>Treat you so good you'll forget there are better options out there. Treat you as good as you treat me.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>"My sweet little slut," Aiden whispers between Lambert's shoulderblades, and the filth of the word in such a tone of adoration makes Lambert shiver. "Ought to start coming back here on my lunch break every day. Drag you out to the alley and bend you over just like this, fill you up and send you back inside. A little fix to get you through the day. Is that what you need, little lamb?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Hnng," Lambert says, because words are hard when his brain has just short-circuited.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Leave you with a reminder of how much I want you, all the time," pants Aiden, his thrusts getting sloppy now. "Leave you just a little sore, so you think of me until you-- until I can-- </span>
  <em>
    <span>fuck."</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>There's going to be a bruise on the front of Lambert's thighs from where Aiden slams him forward into the edge of the desk when he comes inside of him. He's looking forward to it, the same way he always looks forward to Aiden's bruises, including the way that Aiden always kisses them in the morning. "Until later when you can show your appreciation," he finishes for Aiden.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You," Aiden declares, "are getting rimmed until you cry tonight. Please come over. I'll beg if I have to."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Well that'd be a turn of the tables," snorts Lambert, basking in the feel of Aiden's hands slipping up under his shirt and just smoothing over his skin appreciatively. "Not a hard sell, though. Soon as I'm done here I'll be on my way to you."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Perfect," hums Aiden, and Lambert isn't sure whether he means the plan or Lambert. Either way, there's a warm, happy glow in his belly that only Aiden ever puts there.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Aiden pulls out for real this time, and Lambert ignores the shivery trickle of cum leaking out of him and hurries to pull his clothing back into place. Let him be a little uncomfortable for a few hours more, if it keeps him in this heady space that he's currently drifting around in. When he gets to Aiden's house, he can take a shower and get all nice and clean so that Aiden can dirty him up again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>His motions are being carefully tracked by hungry eyes, and when Aiden realizes he's been caught staring, he shakes his head with a little laugh. "Going to ruin me," he mumbles as he fixes his own clothes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Normally Lambert has started to enjoy a little more of a cool down after getting all worked up, with Aiden scratching at his scalp and talking to him and letting Lambert enjoy his glow, but there's no time for that shit now. Aiden has deliveries to make, and Lambert has music to face. Aiden just kisses him one more time, gently, before he's on his way again. It isn't enough, but it'll do for now. With Aiden, he’s found there's always more to come. There's never an end to those kisses.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he regains enough composure to go back out into the shop once more, Lambert finds Eskel in the front of the shop tending to a short line of customers. They always get a rush around now, as people get off work and stop by for a treat on their way home. He sets the tray of unfrosted cookies down on the counter and makes himself useful, bagging up goodies for customers so that Eskel can ring them up without having to go back and forth. A few minutes pass in what only Lambert probably thinks of as awkward silence as they clear out the customers from the store.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When at last the shop is empty and only he and Eskel remain, the silence persists. Eskel busies himself repositioning things in the display case so that everything is easily seen even as their stocks are depleted. Lambert picks up a cookie and starts frosting it. This one is light blue with white lettering that says 'sorry for fucking on your desk or whatever' in cursive. Alright, so maybe he's a little worried about Eskel's reaction. So sue him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually Eskel does speak, starting with a little clear of his throat. "So."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"So."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"You're gay?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert takes his time in answering. It shouldn't be a big deal to put this into words, since everyone in their goddamn family is a little queer so obviously it isn't going to be scandalous or anything. It's still a big deal. "I don't know," he finally settles on, keeping his eyes focused on the cookie in his hands and definitely not looking at Eskel. "I don't really think there's a word for it. I'm not into all dudes. I just know I'm into Aiden. I like him. A lot."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>More silence, dragging on almost long enough to make Lambert tempted to look up, and then suddenly there's big meaty arms putting him into some kind of hold that's half a hug and half a headlock. He's not sure whether he's been assaulted or not until Eskel says, "That's great, Bert. I'm happy for you. Who needs a label, as long as you're happy?"</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"I'm not happy, I'm being smothered to death," Lambert grouses, pushing at Eskel until he's released, but they both know he doesn't hate it nearly as much as he pretends to. "Jesus. Get a hold of yourself, Kel."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Whatever. I'm allowed to be invested in my little brother's happiness."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Gross."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Although, there is one very important thing I need to say to you, and I need you to listen carefully." Eskel claps his hand on Lambert's shoulder and leans in closer, face grave. "If I ever catch you having sex in my office again, I'm going to chop off your dick and bake it into a croissant."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lambert laughs from deep in his belly, feeling lighter than he has in a long while. "Guess I'll have to be quieter next time, then."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"A croissant, Lambert. Don't fuckin' try me."</span>
</p><p>
  <span>"Love you, too, Kel."</span>
</p><p>
  <span> If there's three things Lambert loves, it's decorating cookies, being left the fuck alone, and sometimes, on occasion, a few select human beings talking to him. Maybe. For a little while. Or whatever. </span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Note: Regarding the conversation that Geralt, Eskel, and Lambert had about sexuality, please excuse the fumbling nature of their discussion. I was trying to write it true to character as three morons tried to have an adult conversation about a very complicated topic despite the fact that they only have one brain cell collectively. It was not meant to be exclusionary to any of the millions of combinations and permutations of gender, sex, attraction, sexual behavior, and identification. Everyone's experience is unique and valid and Geralt and Eskel are just terrible sex ed teachers lmao</p><p>Anyways, hope you enjoyed! Next time is Geralt's turn ayyyyyy</p><p>stfustucky | tumblr<br/>@stfustucky | twitter<br/>Charlie Stfustucky#3055 | discord</p></blockquote></div></div>
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